


i guess what i'll be saying is there ain't no better reason

by whiskerbeast



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-28
Updated: 2011-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-26 15:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/284759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskerbeast/pseuds/whiskerbeast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave and John are very good at doing nothing, especially when disgusting bullshit snack food is involved.  Inspired by awesome artwork.  Rated for cursing, because that's a thing that they do a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i guess what i'll be saying is there ain't no better reason

“I hate America.”

“Yeah, I know,” John says beside you, stuffing another handful of Cheetos into his mouth. He pats your leg, leaving orange smudges on your jeans.

“I really fucking hate it. We shouldn’t have fixed things, this shit is fucking ridiculous,” you say, frowning at the computer propped on the chair a few feet away. The worst kind of show is playing on it via live feed, because John wanted to watch Tremors on some daytime television channel, and both of you are too lazy to turn the thing off now it’s over. A woman and her daughter are screaming at each other about some baby, and their accents make you hate every second of being from Texas. It doesn’t really help that John thinks it’s cute how thick your accent gets when you're drunk or sleepy.

He tilts his head up to look at you, eyebrows raised. The position looks really uncomfortable, because he’s slumped against your chest and half in your lap, your arm over his shoulder.

“You know these shows are all scripted, right?” he says, looking amused.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You wave him off, rolling your eyes. He snickers.

The room descends back into silence as the mother on the computer starts crying and the daughter bleeps out some obscenities.

“Jesus,” you mutter, scowling. John crunches noisily, getting absolutely everything fucking covered in fake cheese. You really hate Cheetos.

“Want some?” he asks, and you respond with the quirk of an eyebrow, cool as ever, even though you reach for the bag a few seconds later. You make sure to use the arm slung over his shoulders to grab a handful, shoving him forward unceremoniously and kind of smushing him down a couple of inches.

“Daaave,” he whines as you use the same arm to stuff your mouth full of disgusting bullshit snack food, half choking him in the process.

“What, Jesus.”

He squints at you and then grins, leaning up to kiss you. Everything tastes like orange.

“You’re so weird,” he says as he pulls away, settling back down and kicking his feet against the bed.

“Like you can talk, Egbert. What was that shit we just watched, anyway?”

“Ugh, god, Dave, don’t start this again. Tremors is awesome, shut the fuck up.”

“I thought you hated Kevin Bacon,” you say, leaning forward to snatch a can of Mr. Pibb off your desk. John latches onto you, his arm going around your waist and pulling you backwards. A laugh huffs out of you without your consent as he ruffles your hair, planting his chin on your shoulder.

“Well yeah, I do, but there’s an exception to lots of rules,” he says, grinning his doofy grin.

“It’s the hair, isn’t it? You love the fried, nasty looking thing, it reminds you of fuckin’ Nic Cage.”

“Eww, god, no Dave, shut up!”

“Jesus, John, I don’t know how I feel about this. I mean, I know you’ve got fucking awful taste, but this is just—”

“Dave!”

You laugh again, propping your head in your hand and leaning back against him.

He gets this earnest look on his face like an awful puppy, eyebrows all furrowed and eyes wide behind his glasses as he asks, “You don’t actually think I like Kevin Bacon, do you?”

“I have no fucking clue what you like, Egbert,” you respond, and even though you’ve always been pretty bad at being honest with yourself, even you know you’re lying.

He laughs and pets your hair, and you’ve almost forgotten about the ladies screaming on your computer when another round of swearing starts.

“I still hate America.”

“Yeah, I know.”

  
  
[im fresh out of words but  
feelins now  
ive got plenty of them](http://bitterassfamine.tumblr.com/post/13386971965/im-fresh-out-of-words-but-feelings-now-ive-got)   


**Author's Note:**

> The art is by bitterassfamine over on tumblr. She's a marvelous human being.


End file.
